


solace at your door

by jjxneus



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Character Study, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Homesickness, M/M, Melancholy, Sleepy Cuddles, Songfic, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:21:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26174908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjxneus/pseuds/jjxneus
Summary: There’s a cold that Dongju feels, a cold that he knows just who to go to to warm back up.(Or: A moon rabbit and a dragon find peace in each other.)-Hold me in this wild, wild worldCos in your warmth I forget how cold it can beAnd in your heat I feel how cold it can get
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion
Comments: 6
Kudos: 80





	solace at your door

**Author's Note:**

> title from & fic inspired by [Bastille's song 'Warmth'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubZ5ocBza9I)
> 
> the verse the title is from in full is:
> 
> _Feeling helpless I look for distraction  
>  I go searching for you  
> Wandering through our city to find some  
> Solace at your door_

Dongju feels remarkably small as he sits on his bed, staring out the open window and up at the starless night sky. If he squints enough, at the right angle, the moonlight appears to spread out in thin cracks. As if the sky itself is beginning to split apart and crumble. 

His knuckles brush against the tupperware box on his bed as he pushes down into the mattress to adjust his position, never taking his eyes off of the moon. He remembers what the view was like from above and he has to resist the urge to curl in on himself. He feels helpless, and so much smaller, shrinking under the moon’s gaze. He sighs to himself and reaches forward to close his window, letting it swing shut with a gentle thud. 

His fingers trace the pattern on the curtains absentmindedly, every detail already memorised after all these years on Earth. Dongju painfully manages to avert his gaze and glances over at the clock on his bedside table - 12:15AM, the numbers stare back at him in big bold font even as he sweeps his curtains closed and floods his room with darkness. There’s a crack between the fabric though, and the moonlight shines through it and onto the container beside him. Another crack in the world. The light of his old home normally brings him warmth, but he feels colder than he’s ever been. 

Stiff fingers wrap around the tupperware as he slides off his bed, flinching as his bare feet make contact with the wooden floor. Even as he turns his back to the moon, he can feel its light on the back of his neck, as if the perfect white circle in the night sky is an eye staring at him until he relents. He knows he could go home, resume his life as just another one of the moon’s rabbits, but he also knows that he’s found his own home here on Earth. 

He slides his slippers on as he reaches his bedroom door, hesitating for a moment with his gaze cast downward and his head halfway turned to look at the window once more. Biting his lip, Dongju blinks once, twice, and slips outside into the hallway. The moon stops staring. 

He passes by the spare closet, muttering curses under his breath as the door creaks in betrayal when he opens it. If he’s right, and he usually is, at this hour Dongmyeong has probably decided to stay up late in the living room. Dongju holds the tupperware under one arm as carefully as he can, pulling out a soft blanket with his other hand and using his body to stop the rest of the pile from tumbling out. He’s already made up his mind by the time he’s kicking the closet door shut again and shuffling out into the living room. 

As he’d predicted, Dongmyeong is sprawled out on the couch, surrounded by sheet music and sound asleep. Dongju bites his tongue to stop himself from clicking it. The living room is untouched by moonlight but no less cold, and if he squints, he’s sure he can see Dongmyeong shiver in his sleep. He drapes the blanket over his twin as best as he can from behind the couch, his own head fuzzy with static and fingers longing to be the ones now clutching the blanket in a death grip. 

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the front door of their apartment as he’s zipping up his jacket. He doesn’t want to think about it. 

He doesn’t bother bringing his key with him; he takes it out of his pocket and leaves it by the door. But he does make sure to steal one of Dongmyeong’s more floral scented candles from his stash and places it carefully atop the tupperware container in the bag now hanging from his arm. Dongju takes a deep breath, opening the front door, and he slips through the crack like moonlight. 

The streets are almost painfully quiet. Each step seems to echo around him as he walks, his hands in his pockets as he stares down at his shoes. He knows where he’s going, but he feels like he’s wandering without a clue, without a purpose. The moon taunts him over his shoulder. 

Dongju fiddles with the case of his phone in his pocket as he stands at a traffic light. He peels the case off at the corner, then pops it back on. Off. On. Off. On. Over and over. Someone drives past, windows rolled down enough that the driver and passenger’s laughter rings loud and clear down the empty street. Being outside is worse, he realises; there is no barrier between him and the sky, him and the moon. 

It’s cold enough that he can see his breath and he needs to hug his jacket tighter to his body to stop his shivering. Like this, in this moment, he can pretend to be a dragon. Breathing out hot smoke, with glittering scales instead of soft fur, magnificent wings that are as imposing as they are beautiful instead of powerful legs made for leaping. He can pretend to be bigger than he feels, powerful instead of helpless, burning hot instead of freezing cold. A cloud passes overhead, blocking the moon and muffling its voice that calls out to him. He is anything and everything else other than the truth. He knows he is more than just another set of paws making rice cakes, but the thought doesn’t feel as true tonight. The container hanging from his arm feels heavier. 

Then the light turns green and the moment is broken. 

One foot in front of the other, followed only by his shadow, Dongju could walk this path in his sleep. He doesn’t let himself waver. The moon is beautiful, there’s no denying that, and it lights the stone sidewalk like a beacon. He brushes past streetlamps and street signs with familiar indifference, his gaze flickering around his surroundings as he’s passed by the occasional vehicle. The open air calms him down, but only a little; his body is still tense and jumpy, like he could blink and disappear in a second. 

His thoughts begin to blur together, fuzzy at the edges and fading in and out of static. They come and go like passing clouds, slow and steady, as if they haven't quite gotten the memo yet that he's in a rush to reach his destination before the cold envelops him. 

The ends and beginnings of the streets merge until they form a hallway of stores and restaurants, bookstores and boutiques. He imagines what lives must be lived behind those doors, what other stories are there to be told. He feels open, vulnerable, as if he’s baring his own soul and story to silent watching eyes lurking in the shadows. What lives are there, deep in slumber at this hour, existing in the warmth and safety of indoors and not what feels like a cold wasteland outside? 

That’s what he’s chasing - peace, comfort, reassurance. What he needs but feels too afraid to ask for. The ice in his stomach spreads even as he tugs his jacket closer to his body, his feet carrying him without any thought behind the motion, on autopilot until they deposit him outside a familiar pair of glass doors. The guard sitting at the reception inside notices him approaching and reaches over to press a button, making the doors slide open just as Dongju walks up to them. They wave at him and he manages a polite nod in response, his body too cold and stiff and  _ exhausted _ to do any more than that. He needs his fire, and he needs it now. 

He blinks sleepily as he presses the button for the 7th floor once he’s in the lift, watching the numbers blink one after another on the screen with forced attention. There’s a faint rattling noise as he ascends, like the elevator is only mere seconds away from collapsing in on him and consuming him in cold metal and harsh light. He peers into his bag and the sight of the tupperware brings a small smile to his face. 

Dongju slides his feet as he shuffles out of the lift. He’s been in this hallway countless times, taken these steps with a light in his chest and feeling weightless. Now it all feels foreign to him, like he’s entered a strange dimension where the colour of the walls are a shade too dark and the lights in the ceiling are too bright and too dark all at once. Moon Mother help him, he’s so close to his goal but he stands rooted to the spot in front of the lift doors as they close behind him with a ‘ding’. 

Doubt rushes in through the crack in his mind, in his armour, in the split second that he decides to freeze instead of continue walking. This was a mistake, he tells himself as he stands there, a huge mistake, there was no point in coming here, he’s only a burden. His stomach twists and the ice turns to icicles, jagged and piercing him from the inside out. He doesn’t even know  _ why. _ There is no reason; no cause for his mood suddenly taking a turn and dropping lower than it has been all week. Dongju chews on his lip as he contemplates pivoting on his heel and going back the way he came, walking back through the lonely streets until he’s back home and in bed. 

It’s almost 1AM now. This was a mistake. 

His body betrays his mind but not his heart. He takes a step forward and that’s all he needs to break the spell, the haze of anxiety that still lingers in his mind. It stays at the edges, like a halo of smoke around his head as he takes another step. That’s all it is, isn’t it? Just one step. Then one more after that. 

He stands outside apartment number 26 and stares at those two silver digits, nailed to the front of the door. He could knock, could take the chance and be polite. But now that he’s so close - separated from his goal only by a piece of wood - he feels more determined, more bold. 

So he lifts his hand, fingers painfully cold despite having kept them in his pockets and he doesn’t knock. He places them on the 6 and slides, pulling it to the side to uncover the indentation he knows is there, like a tiny alcove in the wood. It’s small, invisible behind the number plate, but it leaves the wood blackened and charred around the hole - revealing the careful and powerful manipulation of fire that the inhabitant possesses, Dongju thinks to himself with a laugh. Not quite burnt through all the way, but burnt enough that there’s a groove deep enough to hide a- 

A small silver key falls into his open waiting palm. 

He giggles - Dongju: 1, his predictable boyfriend who needs to get sneakier with where he hides his spare key: 0. 

He lets himself in as quietly as he can, turning the door knob as he closes it so that it won’t make a noise. The living room is dark, the only light is from outside where the moon shines in through the sliding doors that lead to the small balcony. He leaves his shoes by the door and places his bag on the coffee table, sighing as the warmth of the apartment seeps in and begins melting the ice inside him. There’s footsteps approaching from the hallway and he recognises the sound of them as Geonhak’s. 

He turns to face him just as he rounds the corner and enters the room but instead of the smile and call of his name that he expects, he’s greeted by a high pitched yelp and the sight of his boyfriend jumping back. 

“Oh my god, Dongju don’t do that.” Geonhak breathes, placing a hand on his chest for dramatic effect. “You  _ know _ your eyes glow in the dark.” 

Ah. Right. He’d forgotten about that - the reason why he had avoided his reflection on his way here. It serves as a reminder that he can never truly escape the moon - it will always be present in the silver rings around his eyes that glow almost as brilliantly as the moon’s real light. 

Dongju raises an eyebrow, “Not even a hello? I come all this way and I get a ‘don’t do that’?” 

Geonhak rolls his eyes, raising a hand to push his glasses back up on his nose as he walks over. 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” He huffs, “you just snuck in! You could’ve knocked! You know I would’ve let you in.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Dongju asks as he shrugs off his jacket, throwing it onto the couch beside him as he plops himself down. “Is Youngjo..?” 

“He’s over at Seoho’s tonight,” Geonhak answers, “it’s just us here.” 

“Ah, his loss, I brought songpyeon.” 

At that, Geonhak’s eyes widen and he sticks his lips out in a not-quite pout that sends little flutters of warmth like a fire flickering inside Dongju’s chest. He sits himself down beside Dongju on the couch, shuffling close until their shoulders are pressed together. Already the glow of the moon feels less harsh, not because it’s changed but because now Dongju feels warmer, stronger - he isn’t alone. He turns to throw his legs over Geonhak’s lap after he reaches for the bag on the table. He pulls the candle out first, holding it up to his boyfriend with a grin. 

“Is that one of Dongmyeong’s candles again?” 

“Maybe.” Dongju’s smile only widens, “C’mon, c’mon, light it.” 

Geonhak huffs, the puff of smoke that escapes his mouth - only a small sign of the fire that lies within him - does not go unnoticed by Dongju. Geonhak lifts his hand and snaps his fingers, igniting the tip of his pointer finger with a little flame that he brings up to the candle. Dongju happily takes a deep breath before he places the lit candle on the coffee table and takes out the tupperware box of little handmade rice cakes. 

“Open.” He lifts one out and holds it by Geonhak’s mouth, watching with soft pride as his boyfriend obeys. He places the rice cake on his tongue and waits eagerly as Geonhak chews. “Good?” 

Geonhak nods, “So good.” He smiles and his nose scrunches up, “Especially because you’re the one who made them.” 

Dongju giggles and curls up into Geonhak’s chest, tucking his head into the crook of his neck. He waits a moment before taking another rice cake out and feeding it to Geonhak. There’s a pleasant hum of calm that settles in the air around them as Dongju’s eyes almost flutter closed - he’s warm now, with the heat of Geonhak’s body pressed against him and his arm around his waist. Geonhak wraps his other arm around Dongju’s front as well, clasping his hands together above Dongju’s hip. 

“So, I know you didn’t come here  _ just _ to feed me songpyeon,” he begins, resting his cheek against the crown of Dongju’s head instead of eating the next rice cake he holds up. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I knew you would still be awake.” Dongju mutters, suddenly self conscious, averting his gaze. They both know he’s lying. 

“Uh huh.” 

“Can’t I just visit because I felt like it and I wanted to see you?” Dongju gives in and sighs. 

Geonhak’s gaze goes incredibly soft and bright, like there are stars in his eyes, like the dragon fire that lies within him has burnt its way up and into his gaze. His shoulders relax even further, and the corners of his lips twitch upwards. It’s a familiar look on him and Dongju hates how much it makes him want to melt into Geonhak’s arms. But his body is a traitor once again so he sinks into the dragon’s touch and presses a soft kiss to his neck. He’s so in love, he hates it. (He loves it)

“You only make this much songpyeon when you’re stressed, baby.” Geonhak whispers, low voice getting even lower. Dongju can feel it through his chest and he pops a rice cake into his own mouth while he contemplates how to respond. 

Geonhak, thankfully, eats the next one he holds up to his mouth. But his eyes are so full of concern that Dongju could cry - Geonhak sees right through him, right through his feeble attempt at a facade, and yet all that brings him is comfort - he doesn’t have to be alone with his thoughts. 

“The moon,” He starts, feeding Geonhak another rice cake. “I can feel it. She’s calling to me again.” 

Geonhak swallows and unclasps his hands to reach one up to comb through Dongju’s lilac hair. He brushes through the strands carefully, gently, his fingers softly pulsing with heat. 

“You’re homesick.” He finally says, and it isn’t a question. 

Those two words settle in Dongju’s stomach and he turns them over and over in his mind. Homesick? Is he homesick? He swallows thickly and presses his cheek over Geonhak’s chest, over his heart, letting the sound of his heartbeat calm his own. The moon’s gaze feels stronger, like fingers gripping the back of his shirt, brushing against his neck and making his hairs stand on end. He feels out of place, numb, like his body isn’t his own, like this isn’t where he belongs. Homesick - yes, he’s homesick. 

He nods and hums as Geonhak’s hand cups his other cheek. Another kiss is pressed to the top of his head and he feels Geonhak’s glasses slide down off his nose and bump against his head. 

He’s homesick - but he doesn’t think it’s the moon that he longs for, not anymore. 

“I am.” He whispers, “But it’s different.” 

He sits up straighter and faces Geonhak, a small smile finds its place on his face, “With you it’s different. I don’t feel so lonely.” 

Geonhak’s hands rest on top of his, guiding them to placing the lid of the tupperware container back on before he sets the box on the coffee table in front of them. Dongju doesn’t stop him, content now to just run his fingers down Geonhak’s neck, tracing over his Adam’s apple and down further across his collarbones. 

“I’ll finish the rest of them tomorrow.” Geonhak murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to Dongju’s temple and making him hum softly. 

“You sure you won’t just hoard them?” Dongju teases - it’s an overdone joke within their friend circle but he likes the way it makes Geonhak blush all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. 

“I don’t-” 

“Oh you so do,” Dongju interrupts his protesting, “you have a hoard of everything I’ve given you, you big sappy dragon.” 

Geonhak pouts, Dongju just barely manages to restrain himself from kissing him, “Well they’re gifts from  _ you,  _ of course I’m gonna treasure them. But I’m not one of those  _ western  _ dragons, I don’t  _ hoard _ things.” 

Dongju’s gaze travels across the room, searching for the cupboard where he knows Geonhak keeps an entire box of spare keys because they’re  _ shiny, _ and an entire separate box (probably box _ es _ at this point) of all the accessories and other things that Dongju has ever gifted him. Geonhak huffs and pulls him back in closer to his chest, clearly knowing what Dongju is looking for. 

“The cupboard’s in my room.” He grumbles, “It’s safer in there. And it doesn’t mean you win.” 

But he can’t keep his face twisted in its grumpy expression for long, not when Dongju laughs and presses a kiss to his jaw - a kiss that quickly turns into a sharp nibble before the moon rabbit is pulling away and spinning himself around to lie down with his head in Geonhak’s lap. His hands reach up to pluck Geonhak’s glasses off his nose and slide them onto his own. He squints through the discomfort, grimacing as he blinks up at his boyfriend. The wire frames dig into the sides of his head a little bit but that’s okay- the pressure keeps him grounded right now, in the moment, just a few steps further from the moon. 

“Don’t do that, you’ll hurt your eyes.” Geonhak taps the tip of his nose but makes no move to reclaim his glasses. 

“But I look good, right?” Dongju grins. 

Geonhak pretends to think about it, eyebrows furrowing as if deep in thought. 

“Nah.” 

Dongju’s smile turns to a glare as he grabs the hand resting on his chest and sinks his teeth in. Instead of soft human flesh, however, he bites into hard dragon scales that leave a metallic taste on his tongue. He pulls the hand away immediately, making a face as he stares up at Geonhak. 

“You hurt my teeth.” Dongju pouts, one hand rubbing at his jaw. 

Geonhak splutters for a few seconds in bewilderment,  _ “You _ bit me.” 

_ “You _ went all scaly!” 

Geonhak rolls his eyes and runs his fingers through Dongju’s hair, “Because you were gonna bite me, it was self defense.” 

Dongju feels himself sink into the dragon’s lap, not even continuing to bicker as he closes his eyes and lets himself finally relax as he’s pet. The hand he had bitten rests on his chest again and he places a hand of his own atop it, fingers absentmindedly tracing over Geonhak’s knuckles and along the white scars he’s memorised by now. The cold has subsided, leaving him tingling and with butterflies in his stomach- but those are definitely from the remaining echoes of the cold, not from the way Geonhak’s fingers are brushing through his hair with so much tenderness and care he could cry. 

“I can hear you thinking.” 

“I’m tired,” Dongju sighs, “tell me something, gimme some news, tell me a story, how are the kids?” 

It’s Geonhak’s turn to sigh now, but Dongju has known him long enough to know it isn’t out of any real exasperation. The sound is warm, fond. 

“The kids are fine.” He doesn’t stop petting Dongju, thankfully, “I think I’m their favourite teacher now.” 

“Probably because you spoil them.” Dongju laughs, feeling more relaxed than he has all week. Geonhak’s next words blur a little in his head as he continues to trace over Geonhak’s knuckles, drawing little patterns that have no end. 

There’s a sea of stars swimming behind his eyelids, inky darkness broken up only by the moonlight that manages to seep in no matter how tightly he shuts his eyes. But it washes in like a gentle wave adorned with sea foam. It doesn’t crack or splinter through his calm, through his peace. It’s the feeling of Geonhak’s hand in his hair, his low voice growing soft as he talks, the smell of lavender and jasmine from the candle burning on the table. It’s a warmth that never quite blossoms into a burning heat, settled in his stomach, it’s the hiss of his anxieties retreating to the back of his mind. 

It’s a reminder that this will pass. 

He doesn’t realise what he’s done until he hears a stifled coo from Geonhak and he feels his ears atop his head twitch- His ears. He opens his eyes slowly and blinks up at Geonhak who gives him a scratch behind the two white rabbit ears on his head. Dongju freezes, eyes wide as he blinks again. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t mean to partially shift forms, huh?” 

“No. But it happens sometimes when I’m,” He can feel his cheeks flush as he shakes his head, pausing for a moment as he bites his lip, “when I’m relaxed. Comfortable.” 

He closes his eyes again, suddenly self conscious, embarrassed. He wants to fold his ears down over his face to hide. He stops as Geonhak takes his hand and lifts it up, eyes snapping open to watch as the dragon presses a kiss to the back of his hand. 

He bites back a yawn, not wanting to ruin the moment, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Geonhak who laughs and helps him sit up slowly. He doesn’t say anything, but Dongju can see the happiness in his eyes at the unspoken acknowledgement that Dongju feels nothing but comfort around him- safe and loved. Dongju presses himself against Geonhak’s chest again, tucking his head under his chin and ignoring the spluttering the follows as his ears get in his boyfriend’s face. 

“Thank you.” He whispers sleepily, his hands curling up in front of his own chest. 

“Huh?” 

“For being here. Thank you.” 

He’s not sure when he starts to drift off but he’s faintly aware of a kiss being pressed to his ear followed by a whispered “I love you.” and then strong arms are lifting him up, holding him close. Geonhak blows out the candle and carries him to his bedroom while Dongju clings to him, exhaustion finally sinking in as he’s taken further from the moonlight shining into the living room. It still watches him, but he lets himself say goodbye, just for now. 

The second he’s placed on the bed - Geonhak’s glasses removed from his face - he’s burrowing himself beneath the blanket and pressing his face into Geonhak’s pillows. He makes himself comfortable, spreading his limbs out while he waits for his boyfriend to turn the lights off. He hears the click, feels the darkness envelop him, then sighs happily as a warm body joins his beneath the blanket. The happiness vanishes almost immediately as Geonhak begins tugging him off the bed with a mumble of “ya, don’t just fall asleep, get changed first.” 

Dongju sits up reluctantly and lifts his arms, keeping his eyes closed as he hears Geonhak sigh before tugging his clothes off of him. He shivers in the cold before he feels the soft material of what must be one of Geonhak’s own sweaters sliding over him, it feels like a warm hug, too big on his body but comfortable. He hides himself back under the blanket, not bothered to change out of his sweatpants, simply kicking them off as Geonhak slides in under the covers beside him. He curls himself up against Geonhak’s chest but lets out a noise somewhere between a yelp of surprise and a huff of confusion as the hot body beside him shifts to warm scales. Dongju twists until he can place a kiss to the scales behind Geonhak’s ear, close to his neck - although considering his long snake-like body in his dragon form, it’s hard to really distinguish where his neck starts and ends. 

“Goodnight, Dongju.” Geonhak rumbles softly. 

“G’night, Geonhak.” Dongju mumbles back as he relaxes, hands gently gripping the blanket and pulling it up over the both of them. 

He turns on his side and presses himself closer to Geonhak as the dragon’s long body winds itself around him, acting as a second mattress beneath his body. It’s not the most comfortable position and his back will probably ache in the morning, but for now he feels warm and safe and that’s all he needs. 

He’s home. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading all the way through :'] 
> 
> you can find me here  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jjxneus) ♡ [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jjxneus)


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